


I'll Be Good

by XxxStarcrossedStansxxX



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brother/Brother Incest, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Rated mature for Incest, Sibling Incest, Stancest - Freeform, THIS STORY CONTAINS THE STANCEST, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 20:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18746734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxxStarcrossedStansxxX/pseuds/XxxStarcrossedStansxxX
Summary: Ford didn't love his world like he should, three times. {{ Stan isn't the only one with regrets and fears }}





	I'll Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> I would say I'm sorry for this, but I'm not. This fic was inspired by the song: I'll Be Good by Jaymes Young.

* * *

* * *

* * *

He was ice-cold, and the source of his warmth had been cruelly wrenched away from him, and left him with nothing but the silence of the vast sea and the shattered pieces of his heart and soul.

 

How long had it been since his warmth was spirited away? He did not know, he could not recall, but it hardly mattered, for it felt like it had been eons upon eons.

 

Stanford Pines clutched the hollow shell that remained of Stanley Pines, all that remained of his beloved little brother, all that remained of his love. No breaths remained in Stan’s lungs, his chest would no longer rise and fall, and there were no beats left to give in his still heart. He was gone…

 

His Lee was gone, taken from him sometime during their slumbering. As Ford had slept, something heavy weighed against his soul, it sent him spiraling into a sorrow so deep that his lungs took in no oxygen. It was then that he jolted awake, only to his anguish, find Stan without any signs of life.

 

And oh how he had tried, how he had tried so desperately, to breathe life back into his brother’s worn out lungs.

 

How he had tried to stimulate the beating of Stan’s thrice broken, but mended heart, with chest compressions so forceful he swore he heard the sickening crack of aged ribs. He’d given it his all, he had done it for so long that time escaped him entirely. He could have been at it for hours, perhaps even days, he didn’t know and he did not care to.

 

Naught a single tear had been shed during his frantic attempts to coax Stan’s life back into his body. He didn’t stop for a single second, he had exhausted himself down to the very core of his soul, yet his effort bore no fruits.

 

All he had before him was an empty husk, a husk that his twin’s soul once made warm and inviting. A husk that had once been Stanley Pines, but now that was no longer. Now Ford clung onto nothing…

 

And, all the failures to bring Stan back to him finally crushed him to pieces. It shattered him, ripped him apart, left him bleeding and broken. It was only then that the tears came down heavy and thick, and that sobs left him in violent tremors as he clutched Stan’s body as if he were drowning.

 

He may as well be.

 

He hadn’t ceased his mourning, the tears just kept flowing, his eyes burned and his cheeks stung like someone had dribbled burning hot candle wax against them.

 

But the pain that his eyes and cheeks were enduring was nothing compared to the agony that resided in his heart and soul. The last lingering warmth that Stan’s body possessed had finally faded away.

 

And, any warmth Ford once harbored within him went with it. All he could do was break, over and over, and he was helpless to even struggle against the sea of sorrow and turmoil he had been mercilessly cast into.

 

“S-Stanley… Stan… L-Lee…LEE!” Ford’s pitiful wails ravaged his vocals, but it didn’t matter anymore, so what if his esophagus was throbbing in protest? It could suffer all it wanted, nothing mattered at all. Stan was dead… he was dead.

 

“YOU FUCKING B-BASTARD! YO-YOU PR-PROMISED IT WOULD BE US FO-FOREVER!”

 

It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair. He’d only gotten to spend one decade with Stan, just ten years of them sailing across the seven seas.

 

How dare he think it acceptable to leave him, just when their dream had set sail. They still had so much to do, so much to see, so much to experience, and so much words still left unspoken. There were still so many kisses left ungiven, and sheets left to stain with their sweat, tears, and seed.

 

“It… it was sup-supposed to be u-us..fo-forever… I…need you… I can’t… I can’t do it without you. Please…PLEASE!” His pleading went unanswered, just as how Stan once pleaded for him on the sidewalk so many years ago.

 

He had left those pleas unanswered, so perhaps this was what he deserved for breaking Stan’s heart of pure gold that night. It’s what he deserved for breaking it twice, when he burned him and for breaking it thrice when he brought his fist to Stan’s jaw, and left him hurting. He deserved this, it was as clear as the stars in the night sky, Ford deserved to know what it was like to have his heart rended into dust.

 

It didn’t mean however, that he enjoyed it, it was absolute torture. He had never felt this level of utter grief before, not even the sick and twisted torture Bill Cipher had bestowed upon him could ever hurt as much as this.

 

If he could reverse the sands of time, and do it all over again, he would do so in a heartbeat. He would be good. He would be so fucking good and love the world as he should. Because Stan was his world, and he had treated him as if he wasn’t, for half their lives.

 

He had left him to the cold, and unforgiving world when he was still just a child. He should have jumped out of the window and into his arms. Stan would have caught him when he fell, he knew it in his heart he would.

 

Yet when Stan had fallen, Ford hadn’t been there to catch him. He had let him fall, let him fall and break apart for forty years. He should have caught Stan, but he hadn’t.

 

And all that regret that he thought he’d finally buried deep, and believed would never come back to haunt him, burst out of the darkness in which it had been locked away.

 

It came back with a vengeance that Ford could have never foreseen. And it hurt… it hurt… oh stars did it hurt. And if the theories held any truth to them at all, that one could perish of a broken heart, Ford begged and hoped that he’d waste away soon.

 

Part of him wished he could, the other half of him knew he couldn’t. He’d be breaking his niece and nephew’s hearts. They already lost one Grunkle and they weren’t even aware, but for them to lose both Grunkles?

 

That would devastate them, and Ford couldn’t bear to know that their hearts would break twice because of him. Even in death, the knowledge that he’d left them to pick up the pieces, would haunt him.

 

Yet, Ford was uncertain if he had a choice in the matter, he didn’t know how he became aware, but he could feel himself slipping away.

 

“I’m sorry… I’m so…sorry Lee…” He breathed out frailly, between his choked up sobs and whimpers, he buried his face against his twin’s chest.

 

“I lo-love…I love you so mu-much, damn it Lee I…I…” His breathing hitched, and his wailing began anew, though this time more subdued as it was muffled by the shirt of his beloved Lee.

 

“I didn’t love you as I should and… and-” there was nothing left for him to say, his woes were wasted on deaf ears that would never hear his despair. So he gave up, he stopped with his useless pleading, he knew it would remain unanswered. Instead he opted for repeating three simple words, and a name.

 

“I love you, Lee.”

 

Just like a broken record.

 

And suddenly he couldn’t breathe…

 

 

“…wa….e…u…p…he….ord! Co….on! … Ju….a…n…mare! He--! S---er!”

 

 

  
And then he was warm.

 

  
"Wake up, hey, Stanford! Come on! It's jus' a nightmare! Hey! Sixer!"

 

Stanford Pines shot straight up like a rubber band, and he hunched over, his breaths coming out broken and ragged, his eyes bright red and shimmering with tears.

 

Dejected weeping pushed through strained vocal cords, and plummeted out of his esophagus like thousands of tiny glass shards. His mind was frayed, his world spinning, his stomach churning as if a storm were inside of it.

 

A gentle hand came to rest on his back, and he snapped his head in such a harsh turn to glance over his shoulder. He heard his spine popping in several places, and white hot pain shooting up and down his entire back.

 

Ford’s eyes met Stan’s, and his heart gave out for a fraction of a second, his own eyes bulged and he gazed so deeply into Stan’s eyes that he thought he’d be swallowed up by them.

 

He was left without words, there before him was Stan, alive as ever, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, his mouth in a taut thin line, and his eyes glistening with immense worry.

 

“Sixer? Hey…uh…you alright? It’s…it’s okay, it was jus’ a nightmare.” Stan’s voice hardly registered in Ford’s mind.

 

Ford just kept staring at him, his jaw hanging low, and his entire body shaking like a newborn kitten that couldn’t regulate their body temperature, yet.

 

There was a reprieve of silence, and it was a silence so heavy that it threatened to capsize the entire Stan O War II, and leave it at the darkest depths of the Ocean. Well, metaphorically at least, not literally as that would be ludicrous.

 

“STANLEY!” Without any warning, Ford pivoted his body, and launched himself at Stan, and just as Ford had surmised, Stan caught him as he fell.

 

Once he was in Stan’s embrace, he broke down without a care in the entire Multiverse. Words erupted from him, although they were so broken that one would mistake them for nothing but gibberish.

 

“W-WHOA! H-Hey… e-easy Sixer, easy.” Stan grunted, the air being dislodged from his lungs when Ford made contact with his body. “It’s alright… you’re alright.”

 

He wasn’t quite sure why his twin was such a wreck, but he knew one thing for certain. He loathed it with every fiber in his being to see Ford reduced to such a state.

 

Whatever terrors that plagued his dreaming must have been quite a piece of work. “C'mon on, breathe for me Ford, just breathe.” He instructed, his voice a gentle whisper, as he took up and hand and began to caress soothing circles into his back.

 

He continued to reassure his woebegotten twin, hushing him softly, holding him protectively to his chest. “Shhh… I got ya, Ford, I got ya… shhhh.”

 

Ford’s incoherent cries began to dwindle, until after five solid minutes passed, he whimpered lowly and penitently, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry Stanley, I… I never meant to break it… I never wanted…please don’t…don’t leave me I…. I love you...I-”

 

“Hey! Hey cool your jets Ford, c’mon look at me…”

 

Gingerly Stan slipped a hand underneath Ford’s cleft chin, and carefully tilted his head up so Ford could make eye contact with him. “Your…nightmare was bout me, wasn’t it?”

 

A weak nod was all the confirmation Stan needed.

 

Stan leaned forward to press their lips together in a comforting kiss, one that conveyed he was still here with him, and he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. Ford returned it with uncertainty, yet with urgency.

 

When Stan pulled away from the kiss, he spoke with firmness, yet also with tenderness.

 

“I’m here, I’m not going to leave ya, Ford. I’m here, I’m right here, c’mon Sixer, I’m alright see. Ya hear that?” He took Ford’s cheeks in his hands so he could direct his head to his chest.

 

He let Ford listen to the beat of his steady and still strong heart, in spite of his age it was still kicking. “It’s beatin’ and m’still breathin’. Ain’t nothin’ in this damn Universe gonna take me away from ya.”

 

Absentmindedly Stan began to brush his fingers through Ford’s gray, nearly silver now, locks of hair. Just like smooth talking, soothing Ford was second nature to Stan now. This always calmed Ford down whenever he woke from his night terrors.

 

“I mean I know that we’re gettin’ up there in our age, Ford. But well look, I’m a stubborn bastard, and I’ll die when I say so. And… well yeah I ain’t gonna lie, ya broke my heart three times, but so what. Ya fixed it, didn’t ya? I’ve already forgave ya. But… well if you gotta hear it again then, I forgive ya, ya nerdy sap. And I love ya too.”

 

It didn’t take long at all for Ford’s whimpers to cease, and for his tears to come to a halt. He rested against Stan, still trembling every once in a while, and his breath still hitching. But otherwise he’d calmed down quite considerably.

 

His arms had reached around Stan sometime during his reassurances. Piece by piece, Ford began to recollect himself, and once he put the last piece back in its place, a calmness washed over him like a warm ocean breeze.

 

“Remind to nev-never have fish be-before bed ever again, Lee.”

 

A deep bellied laughter filled the cabin as Stan placed a kiss to the top of his head. “Noted, now go to sleep, Sixer. I’ll be right here for ya in the mornin’.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“Promise.”

 

Stanford Pines didn’t have anymore night terrors that night, or the night after that, or even the night after that.

 

And when he did have another one, over the course of every few months for years, and the same exact one to boot, Stan was still there, and promised he’d be there every morning and he was for years to come. And Ford loved his world like he should...

 

Until the night they both passed on in their sleep, together, at the ripe ages of ninety eight. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I know, I know, it was just a nightmare scenarios are kind of overused. But you know, I never intended to actually have Stan be dead in this fic. I just wanted an excuse to show that Ford would cry his heart out of his twin ever did die. 
> 
> And don't you deny that he wouldn't. Because when Ford believed he lost Stan to the memory gun, it was stated in canon, that it was the first time Mabel and Dipper had ever seen Ford cry. Ford would bawl like a damn baby if Stan died, and you cannot convince me otherwise.
> 
> Anyways thank you so much for reading this Oneshot! Please drop a review and maybe even a bookmark if you enjoyed! - Starla


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